


Sex, lies, and the Roarin' 20s

by Selly



Category: Great Gatsby - F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby (2013)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blackmail, F/M, Gatsby really needs to be more honest, M/M, Nick is seriously frustrated with the whole thing, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Hatred, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-30
Updated: 2016-09-03
Packaged: 2017-12-30 23:31:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1024687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selly/pseuds/Selly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Officer Jay Gatsby was the man of Nick Carraway's dreams and obsessions. Meeting him for the first time at his cousin's party for the fellow soldiers that were going away, Nick knows that Gatsby only has eyes for Daisy. This doesn't stop him from dreaming though. After being caught in a compromising position with his hand and a night that Nick would never forget, he writes it all down in his journal. He meets up with Gatsby several times throughout his life before finally meeting him once more when he moves to the West Egg, where our tale really takes off. Sex, lies, and blackmail follow Nick Carraway through his tale and we watch as he is consumed by the man we all know as Jay Gatsby.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Roarin' Twenties

**Author's Note:**

> This ladies and gents, is a WIP and is unbetaed at the moment. I'll admit that updates may be slow, but you'll get them. I hope you enjoy!

It was the nineteen-twenties; everything shimmered, everyone drank too much, and the parties were wild. I, myself, was a man of little means, but that didn’t mean that I didn’t have connections. My home life in Chicago had become dull, my time serving during the war had left me restless for sights yet unseen and everyone knew that anyone who was anyone lived in the shining Eggs of the Long Island Sound. Now, as I said before, I was not a man of considerable means, but when I decided to leave the Windy City for the Sound, I was able to rent a small bungalow that used to be a groundskeeper’s cottage in between two of those ostentatious mansions on West Egg for eighty dollars. The eighty was a bit steep, but I was confident in my somewhat meager skills as a bondsman that I would be able to keep afloat. In my spare time, I had thought I would pick up the pen and write, but in those first few months in New York, the only time I picked up the pen was for work...or to keep a journal which would prove potentially disastrous for me in the future.   
I mentioned before that I had had connections. This was true; my time in the war had left me with a few acquaintances and sparse friends in Europe, but the one connection I used was a familial sort. I had a beautiful cousin by the name of Daisy. Daisy lived with her husband Tom and their daughter Pammy on the East Egg and they were just a short drive over the bridge between the Eggs. I had grown up with Daisy; she and I were close in age and often thrown together during visits when we were children, but even I noticed how beautiful she had become as she matured. Her family spent most of their time in Louisville, Kentucky and had quite the home there, one that could only be described as a small mansion.   
I took the opportunity to visit with her once more after I had gotten leave from boot camp. We were to be shipped off in the next few days and I wanted to say goodbye, as she and I were quite close. It was her sixteenth birthday party and she had become the belle of the ball. Her long, golden locks fell down past her shoulders while her eyes sparkled with a sense of mischievous mystery; every one of the officers there jockeyed past each other to get the opportunity to dance with her.   
There was one officer, though, that stood out from the rest. A Mister Jay Gatsby; he caught Daisy’s attention the moment he stepped into the room. I remember that night very clearly, Mister Gatsby slowly glided into the room with an air of confidence and pedigree. The brown-green uniforms that clad most of us in uniform solemnity, only enhanced his grace and beauty. His blue eyes were bright and clear as he looked at her as if she were the sun and the moon; the only thing in the world to him. I felt time slow as I watched them; my breathing stilled and I held it as he kissed her hand and led her in several dances. Licking my lips to wet them, I forced myself to keep watching as an odd feeling bubbled up. My throat had become tight and my hands clenched as Gatsby led her away. Aunt Dottie knew what was going on between them and approved. She cleared the house of everyone else except myself saying, “Don’t you worry about going back to that awful base just yet, Nickey. Enjoy the comforts of home and family just a little longer.”   
Kissing my forehead softly, she retired for the night. Leaving me in the now empty dining room, staring at the spot that Gatsby and Daisy had been just moments before. Rising, I covertly followed the steps of my cousin and her suitor. Everyone else had gone to bed by then and I knew that that was where I should have been. I knew if I were caught that it would be embarrassing at the very least; I would be thrown out and branded a pervert at the worst. Curtains covered the glass patio doors that led to a small balcony overlooking the grounds. The wall of the balcony was high enough that if one were reclined, they would not be seen. From the moans escaping my cousin’s lips, I was assured that she was most assuredly reclined. Hiding behind a rather tall and bushy plant, I lifted the curtain enough to be able to look out and was met with the sight of Gatsby’s bare, pistoning hips. My breath caught and I began to harden as I looked out on the indulgent scene. Daisy’s eyes were widened and her entire body was peaking with carnal desire. Golden locks were spread out in a tangled mess under her body; with every thrust of Gatsby’s hips her entire body rocked.Her body was flushed with passion; her nipples hard and clearly she was aroused by the view I had between her legs, but while she was certainly a sight to most red blooded men, but she was not what caught my truest attentions and caused me to begin to leak.   
That honor was served to the man pleasuring her. Jay Gatsby had a magnificently hard and firm body. I could not see his face, but I imagined it caught up in the throes of passion. His hips would rock while he bit his lower lip trying to stifle the moans of pleasure that were sure to escape him. While I could not see his front, I had the best view of his round buttox. Two perfectly crafted globes that would also move with him; occasionally I could see between them. I had begun rubbing myself through my trousers by the time that their cries of passion had begun to crest. Gatsby’s balls had tightened with his coming release until suddenly it was over and they both stilled. It was that that broke through my fantasy and worry began to fill me. They were curled together on the balcony, but I had to make sure I was not discovered. Gently and slowly, I put the curtain back into place and checked to make sure I had not been seen before I made my way back to my room, laying down on the bed after stripping to my bare skin.   
I let my hand drift down my body as I replayed what I had seen, only with myself in her position. We would meet while I was dancing with Daisy in the typical familial fashion, only instead of him going off with her, he would pull me away as some other dandy soldier caught her attention and favors with shallow compliments and stories. Gatsby and I would talk coyly before he would insist that I show him around and take our conversation to someplace else. He would walk me down deserted hallways with his hand drifting slightly lower than my upper back, teasing me by pinning me against the walls where we could be caught and shunned at any moment before we finally arrive at my bedroom.  
I could feel my hand move lower between my legs so that my fingers could press against my anus. I had experimented before, but there was nothing like having a focus to fantasize about. By the time I had two slick fingers within myself, I was lost in the throes of pleasure, so lost that I didn't hear when my bedroom door slowly open and then was shut and locked. “Carraway.” My name was called shocking me into silence.   
I stared up in horror as I realized the position I was in with two fingers inside myself in full view of anyone to see. My horror increased as I realize who had intruded upon me, Jay Gatsby.


	2. The War: part I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooh since I didn't include a disclaimer at the beginning, here it is: I don't own The Great Gatsby movie or book or any other works by F. Scott Fitzgerald. I am not making any money off of this or anything else. Etc, etc...

Previously:   
I could feel my hand move lower between my legs so that my fingers could press against my anus. I had experimented before, but there was nothing like having a focus to fantasize about. By the time I had two slick fingers within myself, I was lost in the throes of pleasure, so lost that I didn’t hear when my bedroom door slowly open and then was shut and locked. “Carraway.” My name was called shocking me into silence.   
I stared up in horror as I realized the position I was in with two fingers inside myself in full view of anyone to see. My horror increased as I realize who had intruded upon me, Jay Gatsby. 

Now: 

The young Jay Gatsby smirked at me, slowly and self assured. “My, what a compromising position to find such a well thought of son of Chicago. And yes, Daisy told me all about her dear cousin Nickey. Imagine what it could do to your reputation, Old Sport, if this little incident were to be released into the public knowledge.”  
I swallowed quietly as I trembled before him. “You seek to ruin me then, Mister Gatsby?”  
“Why, whoever said it had to come to that? I have no interest in ruining you unless you disobey my orders.”   
I glared at him finally having the sense to cover myself up. “Orders? Mister Gatsby, I may be a soldier, but you are not my commander. I follow no one else’s orders!”   
His eyes darkened as he looked over me before he allowed a soft smirk to grace his face as he replied softly. “Oh Nickey, I think you will very much enjoy these orders. Besides,” Gatsby began to take his clothes off “if you disobey I can always show your family the pictures and documents I’ve collected that prove you visit houses of sodomy.”   
I spluttered as he began to crawl naked onto my bed. The look in his eyes was predatory as he yanked the sheet from my lax grip. “B-but I’ve n-never...!”   
Gatsby gently pinned my unresistant body down as he whispered into my ear. “I know that and you know that, but do they? Whom do you think they will believe when faced with hard evidence?”   
Shuddering as he nibbled lightly on my ear while he waited for my answer, I was forced to face the truth of his words. Perhaps I should have asked to see the aforementioned evidence, but who was I to deny my fantasy when he was right in front of me? “Y-you.” I gasped out as he finally bit down. My mouth was then taken, plundered in his vicious kiss.   
He rocked against me as he took us both in hand and I swear until that point I had felt nothing better. Gatsby’s kisses became rougher, if that were possible, and I could feel my lips becoming numb. I knew in that moment that I would not escape unscathed from Gatsby’s affections, whether our time together was just that one night or many years of friendship.

Continuing on, throughout the war Mister Gatsby and I kept up correspondence. When the man was not dominating my person in the bedroom, he was a surprisingly interesting conversation partner and friend. We were able to stay together for a time while we trained a bit overseas, but the time came that we were separated as war is wont to do to people. He went into infantry in France and I was a bullet catcher wherever I was sent. Those years were hard on both of us, but the one thing that made it better was receiving the letters he’d send me. Gatsby, despite the bleak surroundings, always managed to sound upbeat in his letters. He’d focus on the little things, like the first snowfall or the wonderful smell of baking bread instead of the devastation that hit everyone.   
Gradually, the letters stopped arriving. Every time my name was shouted for mail call, it was always family, but once and only once I received a letter from Daisy. It was a most peculiar thing; my cousin was normally one for flowery language and inquiring after the things I had seen in a foreign country “as one of the people”, but this letter lacked both, only mentioning a weak inquiry as to my well being before she jumped straight to the point. Her true purpose of writing me was to know whether or not I had heard from Officer Jay Gatsby. I felt betrayed as she wrote about how he had been courting her through his letters and about how worried she was because she hadn’t received one of his treasured letters in months. ‘Oh, Nickey, I’m so worried for him. What if he’s dead? Or worse, what if he’s found some foreign bride and has become a carpenter or fisherman or something common like it to be with her? That’d be just dreadful!’   
Daisy went on to tell me about Aunt Dottie setting up a proper match for her in lieu of her “Officer Gentleman” with a wealthy and prominent man by the name of Tom Buchanan. Mister Buchanan was a name I recognized as he and I had attended Oxford together. We were chums despite the fact that I was more studious and he preferred the polo field. He was also an arrogant prick so I could understand her reservations. Bitterness welled in me when I realized that the relationship I had held with Gatsby meant nothing to the man, I was just a way for him to get to Daisy. I did the respectable thing though; I wrote back and informed her that, no, I had not heard from him in quite some time and that if I were to receive any news I would write her as soon as I got my hands on pen and paper.   
It was several weeks later that I received another letter and a newspaper clipping informing me that Daisy and Tom had married and had had the biggest wedding seen in Louisville in over a hundred years. My bitter jealousy was sated for the moment as I knew Daisy could no longer be Gatsby’s without a treturous divorce and I knew that was something Daisy would never do.


	3. The War: Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hardships of war start to take their toll on Nick, but there may be hope yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh gosh, it's been ages since I've updated, but things have been crazy and my inspiration has been lacking since I've been so busy. I don't have a beta either so all mistakes are mine. Also, I know it's short, but it always seems so much longer on the page.

Then:   
It was several weeks later that I received another letter and a newspaper clipping informing me that Daisy and Tom had married and had had the biggest wedding seen in Louisville in over a hundred years. My bitter jealousy was sated for the moment as I knew Daisy could no longer be Gatsby’s without a treturous divorce and I knew that was something Daisy would never do. 

Now: 

Months dragged past as the fighting intensified. I no longer received letters from anyone any longer; they had seemed to have forgotten me back home. My outlook on life had become bleak and the only thing I knew anymore was cold, hunger, and pain. There was no more sunshine, no more happiness, and certainly no more taking pleasure in anything than the warmth of a fire on cold limbs if we were allowed to light one at night. Then one day came the order that our squadron was to move to France. Apparently, a battle had been fought and won, but they need soldiers to replenish what they had lost in the fight. A cheer went up through our camp that we would be moving to a slightly warmer climate and that night we drank and celebrated our relocation. We all sat around the fire to hear exactly what had gone down, but as is widely known, word to mouth most times gets distorted by embellishment.   
One of the other lieutenants in my squadron had overheard the entire report. Apparently, one lonely soldier had not only single-handedly fought off the Germans, but also managed to rally the rest of his men to victory. The man was immediately promoted to Major and awarded medals for valor. This man was also going to take over command from our current Captain who was being shipped home after taking us to France because of a severe wound. One of the things I found particular of this story, (besides the whole idea of a single man fighting off an entire squadron of men singlehandedly) was that no one could recall what the fellow’s name was. The other men waved it off, saying that they would find out when we arrived, but for some reason, the very idea that they could not remember his name bothered me. I stayed up that night trying to imagine what the man was like. Would he be tall or short? Would he have a commanding air about him? Well, most certainly he had to have, otherwise, how could he have rallied to victory?   
My squadron spent a little under a week traveling by foot to the area in France we were to be reassigned. When we arrived we were greeted with cheers and smiling faces. The locals were haggard, but happy. Children ran around us with dirty faces offering hugs and smiles. Suddenly, we were all anxious to meet the person responsible for this. Before, the soldiers were an unwelcome sign of war and now they saw us as a beacon of hope, what could have caused the sudden turn around?   
We were all ushered into camp and immediately food and warm drink was given to us as we were made to sit around fires and relax after our long walk. The others were excited and chattering excitedly about finally meeting this new Major while I sat silently in contemplation, simply watching the surroundings and taking it all in. Slowly, those that remained still from the squadron that came before ours infiltrated our rankings around the fire and sat with us. I listened quietly to one of the stories from a fellow American named Monroe who was chattering excitedly. “...and suddenly he turns to us and says, ‘Well boys, we aren’t going to give up that easily are we?’. We all looked at him like he was nuts ‘cause there’s no way we thought we’d live through the fight after our chain of command was shot down where they stood! He jus’ gave us a wink and somehow directed us to the stations. We returned fire and managed to get those bastards to retreat. Next thing I know, the lads are lettin’ out shouts of victory. We sent word back to the generals up top and they came down themselves to see if it was true and put him in charge on the spot. You lads are in good hands, don’t you worry.”   
That was the moment I spoke up, everyone else seemed to be in awe, but there was one thing that was bothering me. “What did you say his name was?”  
Monroe looked at me before realizing he never said it. “Oh, that’s Major-”  
“-Carraway! I’m looking for a Nick Carraway!”   
I groaned in frustration before I could stop myself, it was almost comical how no one could either remember the man’s name or was interrupted. I stood and went to the private that was calling for me. “I’m Nick Carraway, what can I do for you?”   
The private turned his back and gestured for me to match pace with him while he replied. “The Major wants to see you, follow me, I’ll take you to him.”   
I swallowed, but followed like a good soldier. I had never been here before and had no idea who this “Major” was, but for some odd reason he wanted to see me. The private who had escorted me, led me to the Major’s tent, and left quickly to return to the warmth of the campfires. Slowly, I pulled back the flap and walked in. “Nick Carraway here to see you, sir.”   
The man was quiet as I walked in. He stood with his back to me, looking over papers on his desk as I walked in, but slowly turned to face me. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you call me ‘Sir’ before, Nickey, but I think I like it.”


	4. The War: Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nick confronts Gatsby.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo, a quicker update. All of the comments I've gotten so far has really been fueling my writing at this point. I know it's a short chapter and I would imagine that as my schedule gets more and more hectic (I'm starting school soon along with working) the chapters are going to stay that way, but thought you guys might enjoy the update anyway. All mistakes are my own ^^

Then:   
I swallowed, but followed like a good soldier. I had never been here before and had no idea who this “Major” was, but for some odd reason he wanted to see me. The private who had escorted me, led me to the Major’s tent, and left quickly to return to the warmth of the campfires. Slowly, I pulled back the flap and walked in. “Nick Carraway here to see you, sir.”   
The man was quiet as I walked in. He stood with his back to me, looking over papers on his desk as I walked in, but slowly turned to face me. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you call me ‘Sir’ before, Nickey, but I think I like it.” 

Now:   
I gasped in shock before I could stop myself. Standing before me in all of his usual glory was the man I had spent the past few months assuring myself that I wasn’t in love nor pining for. The first words that I had wanted to say were words of surprise and happiness to see my dear friend alive and not only whole, but flourishing. Instead, what slipped from my lips was “Daisy will be thrilled to know her officer gentleman is alive and whole. Perhaps in her excitement, she might even get an annulment.”  
I could tell Gatsby had been intending to say something else, but instead he replied, “Annulment?”   
My hope had been that perhaps he would have brushed aside my comment and physically reassured me of his wholeness, but those hopes were crushed to pieces by one word. I took deep satisfaction in informing him of Daisy’s wedding. “Oh yes, Daisy Carraway is now Daisy Buchanan, married to an obscenely wealthy polo player by the name of Tom Buchanan. I’m sure she would have informed you herself, if only she knew that you were alive and haven’t run off with the locals as she feared you might when no one had heard from you. Of course, she didn’t consider the other option, she doesn’t like to acknowledge the darker side of things, like the possibility that you might be dead!”   
I spat the last words from my mouth as if they were poison that had been killing me; I had never realized how much I had let my bitterness and worry fester. Gatsby had a loss for words that I had yet to see in the entirety of our time together; he looked astounded, as if this was not the way he had imagined things going.   
“Nick I-”   
“You what Gatsby? Or should I be calling you Major now?” Tears welled in my eyes even as I fought them back, holding onto my composure as best as I could while Gatsby seemed to be trying to compose himself as well. “Did you not think I would worry for you at all? I had not received a letter for weeks from you, but I did not think of it until my cousin wrote to me, inquiring as to whether or not I had heard from you. It was from her I learned that you were courting her through letters, though God only knows what you would speak to her about because she is-she’s-...” I trailed off finally looking back up at him, wondering about his silence.   
There was a glint in his eye and I could not tell what it meant for me, but he began to step closer to me. For every step forward he took, I took one step back until I was against the flap of the tent; it was at this point he yanked me into his arms and embraced me fully. “Oh, Nick,” the words were a soft caress whispered into my ear “you are jealous of her aren’t you?”   
At this I attempted to leave his embrace, struggling against his strength, but he held me still. “Jealous? Why in the world should I be jealous of her when we are nothing but dear friends?”   
“I think you misunderstand this whole situation, Nick.” He said my name flat out and that worried me more than anything else that he had done. Gatsby’s eyes were dark, but not yet cold. “What do you think would happen if our...particular relationship were to be outed?”   
“Why, we would be sent to jail at worst and social pariahs at best. I know they’re accepting of those things in some other countries, but it would be devastating back home. I am not unaware of the danger.”  
“Then you will understand that the courting of your cousin was a pretense to get close to you. I could not pursue you outright, could I?”   
A gasp of surprise escaped my lips and Gatsby took the opportunity to kiss me. His lips moved against my parted ones with hunger that came from the months of separation; his tongue coaxed mine into play as my eyes slipped shut. Someone was moaning softly and I found it was myself as Gatsby clutched me impossibly tighter. After a few moment, our lips separated with just a small distance between them, both of us panting softly. “It was always you, Nickey. From the moment I saw you, I knew I had to have you and I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I work to achieve my goals. I always get what I want with enough perseverance.”  
I chuckled softly, finally relaxing in his embrace. “Yes, I gathered that Major Gatsby, but, if you were after me, then why did you sleep with Daisy?”   
Gatsby stiffened beneath me, very slightly, but still enough that I felt it. “How do you know about that, Nickey?”  
Moving away from him to clear my thoughts, I sat on his bed. “How do you think? I saw you out on the balcony with her that first night. I suppose the all-knowing Jay Gatsby has finally proved to not be omnipotent.”


	5. The War: The Final PArt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I am so sorry for neglecting this for so long. Real life got in the way and I had no motivation whatsoever, it's short, but I wrote it up in just a couple of hours. I WILL continue, I promise even if it's slow.   
> Enjoy!  
> -Selly <3

Then: 

A gasp of surprise escaped my lips and Gatsby took the opportunity to kiss me. His lips moved against my parted ones with hunger that came from the months of separation; his tongue coaxed mine into play as my eyes slipped shut. Someone was moaning softly and I found it was myself as Gatsby clutched me impossibly tighter. After a few moment, our lips separated with just a small distance between them, both of us panting softly. “It was always you, Nickey. From the moment I saw you, I knew I had to have you and I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I work to achieve my goals. I always get what I want with enough perseverance.”  
I chuckled softly, finally relaxing in his embrace. “Yes, I gathered that Major Gatsby, but, if you were after me, then why did you sleep with Daisy?”   
Gatsby stiffened beneath me, very slightly, but still enough that I felt it. “How do you know about that, Nickey?”  
Moving away from him to clear my thoughts, I sat on his bed. “How do you think? I saw you out on the balcony with her that first night. I suppose the all-knowing Jay Gatsby has finally proved to not be omnipotent.” 

Now:

 

“ I never said I was omnipotent, Nick.” He replied striding over to lean against his desk, seemingly needing the space to clear his head as well.  
“You seem as if you are most of the time, Jay.” I sighed, knowing that I mostly likely wouldn’t like whatever explanation he was going to give me. “But that is besides the point, why did you sleep with her if you only wanted me?”   
“Have you ever been Denmark? I visited there a few times before all of this went sour and the Germans invaded, well everyone. They were rather...tolerant of this sort of thing there, all things considered. Truly, it’s not overly uncommon, but what makes Denmark special is that they have a term for people who like both genders and, roughly translated, it means bisexual.”  
Honestly, at this point I was starting to get a headache. “So you’re basically telling me that the sole reason that you slept Daisy whilst trying to sleep with me was because you’re attracted to both genders? Essentially, you’re attracted to her then and want to be with her while getting the privilege of having me warm your bed on the nights that you’re away from her.”  
He scowled at me from across the room before striding across it and yanking me up. “Don’t you ever, for one second believe that you are no more than a mistress to me, Nicholas Carraway. You have it all backwards, Old Chap, she was the one warming my bed while I waited for you to either get over your sensitivities and seduce me or give me the opportunity to seduce you.”   
“You seem to forget that she has society accepted bits for you to be attracted to and marry! Why in Gods name would you give that up to be unnatural like me? Besides, seduce you?! You are far too presumptuous. I’d lose everything; now my parents have been very accepting of the fact that I will be the eternal bachelor who tends to favor the writings of Oscar Wilde, but I would never be so bold as to ruin our family’s good name and you know that! That is why you seduced and then slept with my cousin! Do not lie to me by making our torrid affair out to be more than it actually is.” Yanking myself out of his grip I turned away, heading towards the flap of the tent. My face was flushed with anger and upset, but it had felt good to get it all out at once. The relief I had felt to see him alive had turned into bitterness and the feeling of it choked me as I tried to swallow it back down. A hand grabbing onto my arm stilled me, his grip wasn’t tight, but it was firm.   
“I cannot let you walk out that door with these ideas, Nick. I’ll admit that this is my fault as I seem to have gone about all of this in a way that has led you to believe that my feelings for Daisy are much more than they actually are. I will say it plainly this once, I am in love with you and only you.”   
Nothing else would have stopped me from walking out forever except for that. I felt like a sap, but it was those words that made me realize that I truly had been jealous of Daisy and that had tainted my view of how I felt. I loved Jay Gatsby and nothing would change that. “You’re a very lucky man and you know when to not hold back, I believe that those are the sole reasons you’re here right now, Mister Gatsby.”   
I turned around to look at him and saw his unguarded expression for the first time in our entire relationship. He truly meant what he had said and so, I stepped back into his arms and into his bed.


	6. A Resolution of the War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end of the war leaves Nick and Gatsby separated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the comments and kudos, I love seeing them. I hope you all enjoy this update. I swear I'm not abandoning this story when we're coming to the good stuff.

Life went differently for me in the following months because I suddenly had hope. I got my hands on a journal and began to chronicle my life up until my escape from the war as it ended. It likely wasn’t the best idea to be explicitly honest with this written piece of evidence preaching to my orientation, but with Gatsby by my side I felt reckless. All war ends at some point and ours did as well. Gatsby, the major and I, the soldier were shipped home in different accommodations, but Jay had sworn to me that he would find me as soon as he could. I arrived back home in Chicago to cheers from my family; my father was truly proud of his odd son for the first time since my persuasion became evident. Daisy attended my homecoming as well with her new husband and newly rounded stomach.   
“Oh Nickey, this pregnancy business is just awful. I’ve become terribly fat, it’s amazing that Tom is still attracted to me. Oh, you don’t think he’ll look at other women now that I’ve become a whale do you?” Daisy was still as Daisy had always been, vain and terribly selfish.   
“Now Daisy, clearly Tom loves you and is...excited by your pregnancy. There’s no reason to be afraid.” Softly, I reassured her all the while internally shaking my head at the mundaneness of it all.   
Here I was, coming home in some sort of triumph after living through the terror and backbreaking work of a war and all Daisy could talk about was herself. She had always been like this, but up until this point I had played the dutiful cousin, taking her whining patiently as penance for my failures in this life. Now, however, I had been changed irrevocably by my outward scars and the scorching flames of Gatsby’s love. Daisy’s chattering fell into the background of my mind as my skin trembled with the memory of his touch. I could hear his gruff moans breathing hotly into my ear, almost as if he were here with me and his voice called my name. “...Nickey? Nick!”   
I jolted back to the present to see Daisy staring at me in her dramatic despair. “You haven’t heard a single word I’ve said have you Nick Carraway? Always lost in those writer’s thoughts. I would have thought that coming home would have made you more attentive to others’ feelings.”   
She pouted at me delicately as if she hoped to gain her way to an apology from my person and I could not help but despise her sugary falseness. “I...am sorry Daisy. It has simply been a long day as I’ve only just arrived home. If you’ll excuse my absence, I’d rather like to retire to the guest quarters early.”   
Daisy’s expression turned to one of concern as my mother interrupted our conversation, having overheard. “Come Nick, let’s get you into a proper bed. “  
As I sank into the oversoft bed, I could not help but compare it to the cot I had shared with Jay and found it wanting. 

 

I continued to keep a journal throughout my stay in my hometown of Chicago as I waited for some word from Gatsby, but nothing ever came. The damned journal kept any inspiration I gained as I tried my hand at a career as a writer and failed. My errant bitterness tainted my worldview as I slowly realized that Jay Gatsby was never coming back. I swallowed the bitter pill and tried not to let it consume me. Around my family I was forced to keep up a facade of relief at being home when I craved freedom. Time passed by and I mourned my way through the blow of loss until my bed became less cold and his memory was a soft ache of a happier time. The realization came to me that perhaps I was better off without Jay in my life in the long run. After all, he had only brought me heartbreak and worry time after time. Were the brief moments of warmth in his arms worth the trouble it could bring me or the bitterness? It was at this stage in my grieving that I decided a change of scenery was in order. Daisy had written me a request to come visit her and Tom at their East Egg estate on the Long Island Sound so I put away the foolishness of becoming a writer, purchased several tomes on bonds, and made the move out to West Egg where the story currently resides.


	7. A Life in New York

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nick moves to West Egg and pays the Buchanan's a visit. Gatsby is discussed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, I always seem to apologize for not writing, but I'm terrible at writing things consistently. Here's a new installment, my goal is to maybe finish this over the summer.

The story as I’ve told it in the official narrative is completely true, but parts of the story are missing. Keeping in mind that throughout this entire narrative that I have been keeping a journal recounting my love affair with Jay Gatsby, I did not name him specifically even though, in a moment of self-castigation, I clearly named myself and did so often. In a way, I had hoped in my self-loathing that someone would stumble upon my journal and harm me wholly so that I could feeling the biting satisfaction of pain without having to physically inflict it on my person. Perhaps this makes me a coward and perhaps, at that time I just didn’t care. Naturally, the first thing I did once I had settled in to my cottage in the Egg was to cross the bridge and visit Daisy. The day that I had come to visit was incredibly warm so that I was considering forgoing propriety by leaving my suit jacket at home.  
Arriving at their home, I was met by Tom Buchanan instead of a butler and led inside to where Daisy and her dear friend Jordan awaited us in their ever-resplendent glory. All the french doors that made up the room were open and the space was utterly consumed by the flowing white curtains that caressed Tom and I as we made our way into the room. Perhaps, I had thought to myself, this is the symbol of a new beginning in my life. The day could do no harm and Daisy, in our time apart, had become a philosophe instead of a sugared harpy. “Oh Nickey, how I do so miss Chicago. Do they miss me?”  
I grinned, kissing her offered hand before grasping it tightly. “They cry in the streets ‘Oh, what shall we ever do without Daisy Buchanan to liven up our dreadful city?’ Everyone is in complete despair, constantly lamenting your absence.”   
She tugged causing me to laugh as I flew over the couch and landed on the rugged floor. My breath escaped me as a smile refused to escape my lips. “How that soothes my aching soul to know that they are all so miserable without my presence.”   
“Of course they’d be miserable darling,” Tom boasted proudly. “anyone would be without you.”   
She smirked flirtatiously at him. “You flatter me, Tom. Speaking of Chicago, how have you been in that dreadfully windy city?”   
“I haven’t been.” I replied still relaxed upon the floor. “I’ve moved into a small cottage on West Egg for eighty-dollars a month.”  
“A cottage in West Egg? How quaint. “  
“Certainly compared to your palace.” We both giggled at that as Tom moved to the bar to fix a drink.   
“So what’s it like rubbing elbows with the nouveau-riche Nick? Are they all as terribly gauche as I’ve heard?” Daisy readjusted her perch on the couch as I responded to Tom’s question. “Well, not that I’ve seen.”   
“Oh,” a slightly husky voice spoke up from the opposite couch, Miss Jordan who had until then been content listening to our exchanges. “you haven’t attended one of Mister Gatsby’s parties yet then.”   
My head began to swim as the name she said finally processed. “Gatsby?” Both Daisy and I gasped out at the same time.  
Looking up at the dark haired vixen, I saw her smile take on just a hint of a cruel edge, as if she was pleased by the look of pain on my face and surprise of Daisy’s. Tom stood still and silent in the background and we all waited hungrily for her words. It was as if we all realized that Jordan was about to irrevocably change the future. “Why yes of course, Jay Gatsby, billionaire extraordinaire.” She leaned forward as if to tell us a secret. “He hosts giant, wild, and utterly impossible parties from Thursday to Monday with his house lit up like some twisted carnival.”   
The silence in the room was broken by Tom. “What an utter waste of money and time. Surely the man has other ways to gain favor.”   
Jordan let out a light, airy laugh. “Well he’s only doing it to attract the attention of someone special. Rumor has it that he met the love of his life during his time as a soldier and is trying to get their attention. Isn’t it interesting then that he chose a home directly across the Sound from yours Daisy?”  
Tom’s voice was tense and quiet as he asked. “Why does that matter?”   
I waited for either of the girls to respond as I knew Jordan had been there during the time Gatsby courted her, but they stayed silent so I found myself responding blandly as I went numb. The words were spoken as a quiet revelation. “They were in love before we went to war. I was there they night they met, Tom. It was beautiful.”  
And it was, beautiful and terrible at once. I felt like a cad for throwing this in their faces so blatantly when Jordan only meant to tease of the possibilities. “Did you Daisy? Did you love him and did he love you?”   
Daisy allowed only a few tears to escape as she woefully responded. “I did Tom and it was beautiful, but he ended things with me shortly after he had briefly gone missing because he said it wasn’t right to leave me waiting for someone who might not come back. He was a drifter Tom, even if he’s settled now and I don’t regret marrying you. I love you and if I had to choose right this instant, well, it would always be you.”   
The heaviness left Tom’s shoulders and he cleared his throat. “Well, that’s wonderful to know darling. Let’s leave this nonsense behind and head to the patio for a late supper, what do you all say?”   
Suddenly, it was all okay to the others and I was slightly at peace. Finally, I knew that he hadn’t kept her on the side; perhaps he had truly loved me, but nothing mattered and I slipped a little more into the decadence of the evening as my slight transgression had been forgiven. That night we ate and drank too much and laughed over the past and at midnight I returned to my home in West Egg that I rented for eighty dollars a month and tried not to think about the high probability that Gatsby lived on the same island as I.


	8. Author's Note

Hello everyone!

I'm terribly sorry to tease you all with the possibility of a chapter since it's been so long, but I promise I haven't forgotten about this story. In fact, I've been recently debating about heavily editing and adding to it and changing it into a series of interconnecting short stories so that maybe I would be more inclined to add to Nick and Jay's story. Would you all prefer a series of short stories? It might be more fitting. So just to reiterate: I am going to be picking up the story again and adding to it and editing it. I can't apologize to you all enough for neglecting things, but if you're curious about my reasoning it was this: I was in an emotionally controlling and borderline abusive relationship for almost two years. I started my Natsby fics when I was in high school fresh out of reading The Great Gatsby and continued on my love for it, but I started dating someone who eventually ended up absorbing all of my extra time because they didn't want me spending time with anyone else or doing anything else and I was spending so much of my time and effort and emotions on this person that I was robbed of my inspiration and it was easier to let this fall to the wayside. We broke up recently and I've been working on myself and figuring out who I am again and I appreciate all the support that this story and my other fictions have gotten. Expect more soon! If you have any suggestions or any comments in general, I'd love to see them so please feel free to say hello!

All my love,   
Selly


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